


One Call Away

by ShihoMiyano



Series: Mystrade Oneshots [16]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF Greg Lestrade, M/M, Mycroft is a Bit Not Good, Protective Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Being a Good Brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:28:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27557653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShihoMiyano/pseuds/ShihoMiyano
Summary: Five times Greg called, one time Mycroft called.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Lestrade
Series: Mystrade Oneshots [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974031
Comments: 4
Kudos: 74





	One Call Away

**Author's Note:**

> 🤔 I intended to write something light actually. Then it went off a bit wild.. Inspired by Charlie Puth's One Call Away.  
> [YouTube Link](https://youtu.be/BxuY9FET9Y4)  
> [Lyrics](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/charlieputh/onecallaway.html)

Call 1  
“Hey, Mycroft. Your twat of a brother is currently in danger of getting himself locked up by another DI for trespassing his crime scene. I’m not in London now, can’t help him.”

Mycroft sighed. “Thank you for informing me, Detective Inspector. I will send someone to attend to this.”

“Told you to call me Greg. You’re welcome.”

Call 2  
“Hey Mycroft, your brother was swimming with the fishes in the Thames just now. When we got to Baker Street the plumbing broke. Mrs. Hudson is having it fixed first thing tomorrow morning. He’s in my flat now if you need him.”

Mycroft felt relief. “Thank you, Lestrade.”

“Greg. You’re welcome.”

Call 3  
“Mycroft! HELP ME! I don’t know how I ended up as cargo in a plane! I don’t know what flight this is!”

Mycroft paled. “Stay on the line! I’m tracing your phone now!”

The plane was recalled back to Heathrow after 15 minutes in the air. Greg and Sherlock were extracted from the plane that was heading to Dubai. The person responsible for their predicament was mysteriously shot a day later.

Call 4  
“Mycroft. John got into an accident and is in surgery now. Sherlock’s devastated and I really don’t want to leave him alone now but I got a call to attend to a case. Please come. We’re in the Royal London Hospital now.”

Mycroft left the gala he was forced to accompany Lady Smallwood with and he arrived at the hospital soon after. Greg squeezed Sherlock’s shoulder gently when he saw the man and walked towards Mycroft.

“Thank you, Lestrade.”

Greg sighed. “You’re welcome, Mycroft. It’s Greg.”

Call 5  
“Mycroft… Please please please send someone to get your brother before I shoot him for being annoying. Please! I’ve had a terrible day already without him barging in saying he’s bored!” Greg whispered in desperation in the loo stall several floors above his office.

Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose trying to surpass the oncoming headache. “Apologies, Detective Chief Inspector. I will be there in a few minutes to retrieve him.”

“Thanks, Mycroft. For the last time, it’s GREG.”

Call 6  
“Gregory, I need you.” Mycroft said while sobbing.

Greg’s mind went on hyperdrive. “Where are yo- Hello? Mycroft? MYCROFT???” The call was cut off.

Greg immediately called Anthea. “DCI, we are trying to locate Mr. Holmes at the moment. Mr. Holmes the younger has been informed of Mr. Holmes’ disappearance and is currently looking for him as well.”

“What happened? Was he kidnapped?”

“He disappeared after a meeting with Lady Smallwood and Sir Edwin. His driver was waiting for him but he never showed up at the building’s entrance. MI5 and MI6 agents are also looking for him. GCHQ is combing every CCTV in and around the building as well.”

“Is his brolly with him?”

“No, it was found in the basement carpark.”

“Shit. He can’t fight. Wait, he can but can’t. Oh hell.” Greg combed through his hair in frustration. “I’m going to look for him too.”

“Your ID is temporarily reinstated within this very minute, Commander Lestrade.”

“It was unnecessary.” Greg said tensely.

“We need whatever help we can get.”

Greg sighed. He really doesn’t want the extra paperwork and then getting yelled at for overstepping his boundaries from the current Director General of MI6 on top of his current paperwork with the Met and another yelling by Chief Super…

\---

Greg and Sherlock coincidentally met at Musgrave Hall. They managed to track Mycroft to the Holmes' ancestral home. Greg was informed through his ear piece that three heat signatures were detected. Anthea directed him to the location.

Sherlock frowned as they creeped nearer to their destination. “That was Mycroft’s room.” He whispered.

Voices were heard and Sherlock froze. “No.” He let out. The younger Holmes ran towards the room and opened the door.

“Eurus.”

“Ah, brother. We’ve been waiting for you. Come join us for tea. We have cakes and sandwiches.”

Greg caught up with Sherlock and stood still beside him. He had never seen the youngest Holmes before but the resemblances between the siblings were there, somewhat.

“I see you’ve brought a different friend this time, Sherlock. A bit old for you, don’t you think?”

Sherlock sneered. “How did you get off the island again?”

“So easily manipulated. So boring. I was bored! I wanted to play with you again outside.”

While Sherlock talked to Eurus, Greg was looking at Mycroft. Mycroft’s expression was blank. He looked uninjured but his suit has creases. Mycroft looked like a doll propped up on a chair, sitting politely. A cup of tea and a slice of cake in front of him, untouched. Not good.

Greg took a step forward and immediately took out his gun to shoot at a man at his side on the foot and arm. That took care of the third heat signature Anthea told him about. He pocketed the man’s gun.

“Hrm. This one is rather perceptive, Sherlock. I like this one. Smells dangerous. Not like that short idiot man dangling around you like a little puppy in awe.” Sherlock’s eyebrow twitched at the insult to John but said nothing.

“What have you done to Mycroft, Eurus?” Sherlock asked with gritted teeth.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You lie.”

“I only asked him to join me for tea.”

“Fine, how did you ask him?”

“I got into 2 Marsham Street, stood in front of him and asked him to join me for tea. He followed me to the car in the basement and we left.”

“How did you get into [2 Marsham Street](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2_Marsham_Street)? No, I don’t want to know.”

“Come now, brother, you don’t need me to explain everything, do you? It’s tiring and BORING!” Eurus banged her fist on the table.

“Let’s have tea already! It’s getting cold! Mycroft, pour some tea for Sherlock and his… fascinating friend.”

Mycroft remained still. Greg and Sherlock were getting worried. Greg walked to Mycroft's side and checked for a pulse. There were heartbeats but weak. The ginger's breaths were shallow.

"Commander, we have the building surrounded. Please be ready for possible disturbance.", said Anthea. 

"Mycroft, talk to me." Greg whispered beside Mycroft's ear.

"Oh, you're that voice Mycroft talked to earlier. Interesting." Eurus leaned forward. "Interesting.", and a gun shot was heard. Greg was thrown backwards and fell on to the floor. "Too bad!" Eurus laughed maniacally.

Sherlock wanted to run around the table to Greg but Eurus pointed her rather large firearm at him. "Sit down, Sherlock. We're here to have tea."

Sherlock put both his hands up, sat down on a chair and looked at Mycroft. His brother's hands started trembling and eyes started to well up with tears.

Mycroft stood up with much difficulty, as if forcing his body to fight against gravity, his shoulders slumped forward with arms dangling. His trembling hands curled into trembling fists. Tears rolled off his checks and dripped onto the floor. The devastated man screamed. 

\---

Greg heard Sherlock screaming. He opened his eyes and saw Mycroft was strangling Eurus with both his hands while holding her up mid air. His bulletproof vest did their job but it sure as hell is going to bruise painfully the next few days. They were surrounded by armed agents who do not know what to do. Sherlock and Anthea were screaming at Mycroft to let go of Eurus, each holding a wrist, trying to break off the strangulation. Greg quickly went to Mycroft. 

"Mycroft!" Greg hugged Mycroft tightly from behind. "Mycroft, you don't want to do this!" Eurus' face colour turning pasty by the second. "Mycroft!" Eurus fell onto the floor and started to cough violently. Sherlock twisted Eurus' arms to her back and handcuffed her.

Mycroft fell onto his knees panting with Greg still hugging him from the back, cushioning his fall. Greg sighed in relief as he hugged the man closer and touched their heads together at the side.

"Let go of me." Eurus said nonchalantly. Five of the agents turned, pointed their guns at Sherlock and shot at him. Sherlock managed to avoid the shots in time and only had a minor grazed wound on his left arm. The five people formed a circle around Eurus. Eurus threw the handcuff that was holding her down on the floor with disgust. 

"Really? That useless flimsy thing to hold me down?" 

"Would you prefer I cut you up to pieces instead?" Greg asked with spite. 

"Why not? Oh, because you won't. You're not that sort of man. If you were, you would have killed that one immediately when you entered the room or even let Mycroft strangle me to death just now."

Greg gritted his teeth. He had seen Mycroft go through emotional hell after the incident in Sherrinford. The younger man was crying out blood after 3 days of crying when he thought no one could see him. Anthea spotted the blood stains on his cuffs and called Greg in panic thinking Mycroft had begun cutting himself. 

Greg took time off from work from the day Anthea called for two weeks to look after Mycroft and another two weeks of half days. He spent nights beside the man he cares dearly, holding him close, calming him from his nightmares, distracting him from his dark thoughts when they pop their ugly heads. They were not lovers but Greg doesn't mind that his love for the ginger was unreciprocated as long as Mycroft was alright. He didn't want to take advantage of Mycroft when the man is emotionally unstable. 

"Mycroft, I'm sorry, love." Greg whispered. He gave Mycroft a squeeze, kissed his cheek, and let go of the man. Anthea held Mycroft. "Anthea, get everyone out of here, please. I don't want them to see me." Greg said with a gentle sad smile. 

Anthea's eyes widened but nodded in understanding. Anthea gave orders for the group to grab Sherlock and retreat. Sherlock was of course stubborn but he was carted off by 4 people, each holding a limb. Mycroft tried to struggle as well but he was still affected by whatever Eurus gave him, making him semi-paralyzed. The five traitors had positioned themselves to shoot but one of them yelled out in pain all of a sudden. 

"Oh Eurus, if only you knew." Greg brandished his bloodied [tantō](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tant%C5%8D) and stopped abruptly to let the blood fall off the short sword. A hand was on the floor and the owner screamed until he was blue. Greg silenced him with a kick to the head.

The remaining guns were pointed at him including Eurus'. Greg took out another tantō with a smile and he began to dance, creating a bloody storm.

\---

Anthea found him sitting on a balcony stone railing staring at the sunrise.

"Am I going to prison?" 

"No, you took an appropriate course of action to save the brothers." 

Greg chuckled. "I'm sure a bloodied room scattered with bits of body parts and organs was anything but appropriate."

"The threat was eliminated with certainty this time." 

Greg closed his eyes and sighed. "There would have been a background check on me. Why was I still allowed to be in contact with Sherlock?" 

"At that time, we only had the profile MI6 created for you." 

"So, when did you find my real profile?"

"During the two weeks you were with Mr. Holmes."

Greg opened his eyes and looked at her.

"I had to make sure you had the appropriate security clearance level. It was on par with Mr. Holmes' and far too high for a police officer of your rank." 

"Guess they forgot to cover that bit of information." Greg looked back at the sunrise. "And you didn't tell Mycroft?" 

"You're clearly head over heels for the man and would have killed yourself first before harming him. Why should I?"

"Oh, I don't know. I am rather good at cutting people up and have done it so many times. Rather dangerous man with anything I can get my hands on, don't you think?"

"It was for Queen and Country. Besides, people around Mr. Holmes had at least killed one person in their life. Even his brother."

Greg sighed. "This is different." 

"How so?" 

"I chopped up his sister."

Anthea pursed her lips. If Eurus had been another Moriarty, she knows with certainty that Mr. Holmes would not bat an eye about this death but this is his sister.

The both of them stared at the sunrise for a little longer, taking in the changing scenery. 

"Ma'am! Sorry, we couldn't stop them. They are in the room full of blood."

"Shit!", said both once assassins. They ran back to the room.

Both brothers stood still at the doorway holding hands, staring at Eurus' head. Greg turned back to leave, unable to face the brothers, especially the man he loves. His hand was caught by another. He turned back to see Mycroft holding his hand and Sherlock beside his brother. Greg turned his head to the side with downcast eyes, avoiding the brothers' eyes.

"You killed her." Mycroft whispered. 

Greg nodded. 

"You were a trained assassin." Sherlock said quietly. 

Greg nodded again. 

Mycroft took a wobbly step forward. Greg caught him in his arms as the ginger fell. They kneeled on the floor embracing each other.

"It's over." Mycroft whispered. "It's finally over."

"Mycroft?" Greg asked in confusion. 

"She's dead for real now. She's finally gone." Mycroft sobbed as he buried his face into Greg's neck. "Thank you." 

Greg wrapped his arms tighter around Mycroft with relief. He whispered back, "You're welcome.", and kissed Mycroft's forehead.


End file.
